Ava rinsed her mouth with water as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her large woodsy-green eyes were filling with revenge. How dare you flaunt your unborn baby in my face. Her eyes darkened in the mirror. And to watch that fat demon make three after what he did to me? What kind of man are you? Tell me? Who the F**k are you? You f*****g son of a whoring bitch!
“Are you okay in there?” asked Michelle outside the door.
“Just washing up,” replied Ava in a sing-songy-manner. She then rinsed her mouth one last time and shut off the water. As she reached for the decorative hand towel, she noticed a bottle of nail loish and an old-fashioned, sharp metal nail file on the marble countertop.
Ava picked up the knife-like nail file with all her might as she slowly reached for the doorknob.
“Trust me, it gets better in a few weeks,” shouted Michelle.
Ava’s large green eyes were turning black with murderous rage. . .
“You really are sick in there, aren’t you?”
“Ava. . . are you okay?”
Then suddenly Ava SPRUNG OPEN the door, leapt out of the bathroom and shoved the metal file into Michelle’s face. In response, Michelle bent backwards, terrified.
“I can’t believe they still make these.” Ava stood cool and calm as a Druid tree.
Michelle breathed heavily for a few moments. . . then started laughing, recovering from the false alarm.
“Oh, did I scare you? Bless your heart.”
Michelle continued laughing at herself. “You scared the hell out of me. How silly?”
Ava joined in on the laughter. “How rude of me. I am so sorry.”
“And yes, they do still make those. I`ll grab you one next time I go to Piggly Wiggly.”
-The raping of Ava DeSantis